Untold Elvhen Tale
by Grey Mahariel
Summary: An old elf tells an unknown story about the Dread Wolf for their bedtime story.


The old elf gave a smile to the children waiting for him around the camp fire. He sat next to them, taking a young girl on his laps. Her jet black hair were gathered in a loosened braid. He sighed softly in the clear moonlight of the Emerald Graves. The story he wished to tell was none which had ever been told. Merely a dream, a whisper in his ear.

He took a deep breath before beginning, his voice soft in the silence of the evening.

* * *

"Once upon a time was an elven maid.

She lived in the grand empire of Elvhenan. The elves were everything and everyone, their magic magnificent. The spells were tunes, resonating through the years and reverberating in sweet harmony. The world was as only one can dream, and even the Fade lost most memories of this beauty which no words can describe. This is what has been lost, da'len."

* * *

He looked sadly at the young elves before his expression turned dark.

* * *

"But everything wasn't the golden face one could see. Arlathan was living upon the blood and sweat of its slaves.

The maid was one of these. She had been dedicated young to Ghilan'nain, mother of the halla. The herd was all she had ever known. She was one of Andruil's halla keepers. Those of her slaves the Huntress had dedicated to her lover and her most magnificent creation.

The halla keepers were no common slaves. In their misery, taking care of the herd asked for more education. They knew herborism and of few spells in order to be able to protect the sacred animals. All of the halla keepers had their hair bleached in honor of the mother and her fabled long white hair. Lustrous and untainted as the fur of the halla.

The maid had had the best education a slave could hope for. Her privileges were beyond the ones of the others.

Sadly, this education was no free gift from Andruil. The Huntress' lover had then been lost to a hunter. Ghilan'nain did not die, but her wounds were beyond repair. To save her life, Andruil changed her into the first halla, losing her love to the wilderness. It was no coincidence if the halla keepers had the silver hair of the mother. Andruil looked among her slaves and servants, her heart yearning for the ersatz of a love she could not reach.

The maid, with her bright lagoon eyes and her soft features, fulfilled this role good enough and became the favorite slave of the Huntress. As such, her education only grew.

Her magic training was impressive. She received the training of the Three Trees by Andruil herself who wanted to have her best success by her side on the hunt. The maid was in no position to protest or fight. But she was no fool. She knew she was but Andruil's favorite pet, and the more she got a chance at developing a mind of her own, the more her loathe for her mistress grew."

The old elf paused, looking at the child on his laps. She was looking at him, listening with all the seriousness her young age allowed. He cleaned her forehead from a rebel strand before resuming.

"Among the other Evanuris was a lonely wolf, who despised his brethren for the cruelty with which they treated the People.

After long years, watching, staying aloof, trying to stop this madness peacefully, it was more than he could bear to see his People suffer. The mien'harel had to come. But he could not proceed alone. He had elves on his side, but too few still. And none he could send undercover. He decided to investigate the houses of the other Evanuris to find people he could convince.

At first, his agents were wary the most about the maid when watching from afar the slaves attending at the herd. It was obvious she was leading the lot of them and more than once, she seemed nothing but the shadow of the Huntress. One day came when they witnessed a scene which changed everything.

Andruil entered one of her mad anger against a young servant. Barely older than a child. She was about to attack him, and the maid stepped in. She dared stepped in. Eventually, Andruil killed the boy, and let her barely alive, granting her a chance at keeping her life and position despite her deed if she was able to heal herself. A cruel challenge. The maid, for all her talents, had never been good at creation spells.

Fen'harel's agents did not hesitate. She was able to get them in and she just proved she cared enough to risk her own life. It did not do any good, but it was more than most slaves - but how could they be blamed, without education or thoughts of their own?

As soon as Andruil was out of sight, they carried her to their Lord. The wounds were deep and they could not save her themselves. Fen'harel was surprised when his agents came through the eluvian with the young woman, but did not question, seeing as she was going to die if they lost time in useless debate.

The maid woke up several hours later in this unknown Keep. The elf was sitting near the bed she was in and closed the book as soon as her eyelids flicked opened. Long copper brown hair was falling on his shoulder, his chin held proudly. His storm blue eyes looked at her with curiosity and he felt immediately mesmerized by her large lagoon ones. She listened to his words, and wasn't he surprised to find her unafraid and unimpressed to have been saved by the Dread Wolf himself. But this is no title he gave her, because he was a man before some symbol of mischief.

They reached a bargain. She would cover his deeds as long as he assured the safety of the freed slaves.

"Once we are numerous enough, you'll be freed as well." He promised.

"And if I am, she'll know. Free my people, wolf. I don't need to be saved."

He looked at her with mixed feelings as she went through the eluvian and back to the Huntress, wondering if ever he'd see these eyes again.

As time went by, both held dearly to their promises. It took years but his army grew day by day. After few months, he finally decided to see by himself the maid again. She chastised by pride, claiming he took risk and did not trust her enough. In truth, she was relieved to see him. As she was each time after.

After the first year, they met the first troubles with their little operation. More exactly, Fen'harel finally realized the true reason the maid was in such high position. First, he felt his heart ache as he had not in centuries. Then, he understood what a fool he was and that of course, the Huntress would dare such thing as to force a slave into her bed. He stormed off from Tarasyl'an Tel'as, decided to put an end to this and to kill the Huntress - but never would he have admitted then why he felt so strongly the ire and need to put the woman to safety.

He did not think it through, too outraged and furious. He could not kill Andruil on his own and needed help. He went to find Anaris, trying to get a bargain. The talks did not go well as he had tricked the Forgotten One merely weeks ago. He came back deeply wounded. But it did not stop him and, instead of going home, he went to Andruil's herd, looking for the maid.

Fen'harel arriving in Andruil's private ground wasn't event to go unnoticed. It was seen as an attack as soon as he arrived, all thinking he was going after the hallas. The maid had no time to act that she was dragged by Andruil on a wolf hunt.

This part of the story is known nowadays as the story of Fen'harel and the tree. Andruil captured him, the maid as distressed as helpless. The Huntress soon sent her home to watch over the others, considering the victory of the capture enough to guarantee her success. The maid disobeyed without a single hesitation, but disappeared from their sight. She sneaked into the woods, fighting not to act with stupidity. When Anaris arrived, she took the risk to lean closer to the wolf, whispering in his ear the weakness in Andruil's armor. The following of this part of the tale goes as your Keeper told you, da'len. Eventually, both Andruil and Anaris were knocked out.

The maid rushed to free the Dread Wolf, tears on her cheeks and hands trembling.

"What got into you?!" She asked, voice shaking. But he was too weak to answer and only whispered a word before passing out. She managed to take him to an eluvian, finding agents of his to help them back to Skyhold. This time, it was she who stayed next to him for hours. He healed himself through his sleep. She helped with whatever potions and balms she could prepare.

When he awaked, she threw herself into his arms without thinking more. He held her, feeling warmth in his chest. This time he answered the question and gave her the reason he acted. She looked at him with endless sadness.

"This is the only way I can help you. Do not worry about me."

"I refuse to let that happen, vhenan." He answered angrily, not watching his tongue which slipped.

The argument went on and in Skyhold she spent the night. But when the morning came, she went back to Andruil, decided to do right by her People.

Whatever happened in Tarasyl'an Tel'as that night, they forced themselves to stay apart after it, both dedicated to the Halam'shivanas. They still met briefly and occasionally during the next years, when they could not fight the urge of a stolen moment or merely of seeing the other to be sure they were alive.

All was about to change, and the Dread Wolf was planning to finally free the maid when Mythal's murder happened. It shook the whole of the Empire and a storm was rising quickly among the Evanuris and soon, Elvhenan.

Seeing as panic was taking everyone, The maid fled Andruil's ground to find Fen'harel. They met halfway in the Crossroads. Their reunion was short as the Dread Wolf had then no choice but to carry on his plan quicker than he intended."

* * *

The old elf stopped his words, looking ruefully into the thick woods of the Emerald Graves. The young girl, eager to know the end of the story, grabbed gently his sleeve, trying to get his attention back.

"What happened next, hahren? How did they get their happy ending?" He looked down at her, shaking his head slowly.

"They did not, da'len."


End file.
